


The Run-Up

by youcouldmakealife



Series: Impaired Judgment (and other excuses) [77]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 13:10:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18011525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youcouldmakealife/pseuds/youcouldmakealife
Summary: “Jared,” Bryce whines. “I was like, enjoying being in the moment.”“You can enjoy being in the moment and plan for the future at the same time,” Jared says, which doesn’t sound true even to him, but whatever. They do need to talk about it.





	The Run-Up

The logistics discussion is maybe — postponed for a short time. Medium length of time. The time required to have more incredible engaged sex, and if they have sex like this every time Jared says yes to a proposal from Bryce, Jared’s going to need Bryce to propose every fucking day of their lives. 

He wonders what married sex would be like.

It would probably kill him and he doesn’t even think he’d mind.

But after they’ve recovered, and taken a shower together — which was honestly a terrible idea and now Jared’s bruised his elbow, great work, Matheson — and put an ice pack on Jared’s poor elbow, and ditched the remains of breakfast and made a new pot of coffee, the logistics discussion is back on.

“Jared,” Bryce whines. “I was like, enjoying being in the moment.”

“You can enjoy being in the moment and plan for the future at the same time,” Jared says, which doesn’t sound true even to him, but whatever. They do need to talk about it.

Bryce scowls, but doesn’t argue.

“So like,” Jared says. “I’m not ready to get married tomorrow or anything.”

“Yeah,” Bryce says. “I mean, I’m out of town.”

Jared snorts. “Or like. For awhile?” 

“What’s awhile?” Bryce asks, wary sounding now.

“At least like,” Jared says. “Probably not this year or anything.”

Bryce relaxes. “Yeah,” he says. “Planning takes time and stuff.”

“I want to meet with a lawyer to talk about like, the details,” Jared says. “And we need to tell our agents before anyone else. I mean, other than Chaz. Too late on that.”

Bryce makes the most pained face of all time. 

“If you’re not cool with Chaz knowing—” Jared says, stomach dropping.

“Not the Chaz part, that’s fine,” Bryce says.

“I’m not marrying you if you can’t even tell your agent you’re getting married, _fuck_ Bryce,” Jared says.

“Okay,” Bryce says, with a ridiculously dramatic sigh. “I’ll tell him today if you want.”

“Don’t sound so excited,” Jared says.

“It’s not like, the telling him,” Bryce says. “Or it is, it’s just. He’s totally going to yell at me.”

Greg’s probably going to yell at Jared too. Well. Better to get it over with. It’ll help steel him for whatever absolute mayhem will go down when he tells his parents.

Fuck, he does not want to tell his parents. Maybe he can put it off. Like. Forever. Until the wedding. At the very least, until playoffs are over. He’s got enough on his mind right now, between Bryce and the impending match-up. Maybe Bryce is right about enjoying the moment.

“I figure we can like, do a lot of this after playoffs?” Jared says. Which hopefully won’t be for a bit. Jared wants that Mem Cup, and he wouldn’t say no to his boyfriend — fiancé, shit — nabbing the Stanley. “Like, make an appointment to see a lawyer in like, June or something.” June’s safe. Either they’ve won or they’re out in June.

“Yeah,” Bryce says. “Okay.”

“And I’m asking them to draw up a pre-nup,” Jared says.

“ _Jared_ ,” Bryce says.

“I’m not kidding,” Jared says. 

“I’m not going to sign a pre-nup,” Bryce says.

“I can’t make you sign it,” Jared says. “But at the very least I want it drawn up and for them to like, let you know what’s involved.”

“Jared,” Bryce says.

“Humour me, okay?” Jared says. “Because it’s your money, not mine, and I’m not—”

“Being married kind of makes it our money,” Bryce says.

“Yeah, but people are going to think I’m like, marrying you for your money or something,” Jared says.

“Who gives a shit what people think?” Bryce says. 

“You, for one,” Jared says.

“Yeah, but you don’t,” Bryce says. “And I know you don’t give a shit about my money, and like, anyone who has ever met you would know, so.”

“Still,” Jared says.

“Can we talk about this in like, June?” Bryce says. “Because like, I’ve got to leave in a couple hours and I don’t really want to fight about my money right now. Our money. Whatever. You know I don’t care about it.”

“I do know how much your cars cost, so yeah, I’m aware,” Jared says. 

“They’re an investment,” Bryce protests.

“Uh huh,” Jared says. “The cars that are constantly depreciating in value are an investment.”

Bryce narrows his eyes. “You use big words just to confuse me,” he accuses.

“I do not,” Jared says. “I use words appropriately and also your cars are stupid.”

Bryce gives him the finger.

Married life is gonna be so great.

*

Jared has to take his ring off for his last game of the regular season, because the Hitmen are a bunch of dumbasses, but even a bunch of dumbasses would see a ring on someone’s left ring finger and put two and two together. That’s not even two and two addition, honestly, that’s like, one and one. 

He’s put off telling Greg, which he knows is kind of unfair because Bryce told Summers — apparently he didn’t yell, but he was super rude about it — and the last thing he needs is it getting to Greg through the rumour mill. Or like, getting to anyone else. His dad is friends with a lot of the billet families, and Jared can’t imagine how furious he’d be if he found out that way. Well, he can. It would not be pretty. It’s still not going to be pretty, but that would be a fiasco.

The game’s kind of a nothing one, technically, their place fixed and the Blades out of contention, but Jared protested a suggestion he sit it out like he sat out the one before — he knows it’s a good idea to be rested for the playoffs, but if rest includes rust, well, that’s a problem. They win it, a perfect capper on what was a close to perfect season — well, just over .700, but that’s practically perfect in hockey terms — and Jared goes out with his parents and Erin after to celebrate, biting his tongue so hard it fucking hurts the whole time so he doesn’t end up blurting out anything in the middle of a restaurant crowded with the people fresh from the game. One of them’s wearing his jersey. It’s still something he’s not used to, not sure he ever will be.

He Skypes Bryce when he gets home, feels something settle in him at Bryce’s half grin, the slope of collarbones. He looks all cozy, ready for bed. It’d be better if that meant he was in Jared’s bed, but this is okay. Something he’s used to. Something he has to be used to.

“Hey, superstar,” Bryce says. “Playoffs.”

“We already knew we were in,” Jared says.

“But now you’re really in,” Bryce says, and that’s true. It’s a different feeling when you clinch it than when the season’s done, and the next game you play, it’s going to mean something. A lot. A kind of mix between anticipation and fear that Jared’s a little addicted to, has to be addicted to, chasing it every season. “How’re your folks?”

“Good,” Jared says. “I nearly bit my tongue off not telling them, though. Figure it should wait until after playoffs.”

“I told my mom,” Bryce says. “If that’s okay.”

“Obviously,” Jared says. “How’d she take it?”

“She’s happy about it,” Bryce says. That must be nice. Jared’s parents are not going to be. “She says you’re like, the best son-in-law ever.”

“Aww,” Jared says. “She’s a pretty good mother-in-law to be.”

Bryce beams.

“Sorry you’re stuck with the future in-laws you are,” Jared says, and over Bryce’s protests, “Come on.”

“Your mom’s started to be nice to me,” Bryce finally says, which isn’t a straight up lie, at least. And his dad’s started being a bit less un-nice. Jared still totally wins the best in-law contest.

“Well, my mom’s pretty great,” Bryce says when Jared says as much.

“She really said I’d be the best son-in-law ever?” Jared asks.

“She really did,” Bryce says, and Jared smiles down at his hands. His bare hands, which reminds him he should probably actually mention that.

“Would you be upset if I wear the ring on my chain I’m out?” Jared asks, as if he hasn’t already. It’s a white — well, not lie. Omission, tops. “People are definitely going to ask, and I—”

“No, that makes sense,” Bryce says. “I get it.”

“Oh, and just like, warning you,” Jared says. “When you come home I’m going to be hideous.”

“You won’t be hideous,” Bryce says, but weakly.

“Just preparing you in advance,” Jared says.

“You always look great,” Bryce says, still weak. “You getting it done tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Jared says.

“Have fun,” Bryce says, and when Jared makes a face, Bryce makes one right back.

*

Before Jared can truly go to the playoffs, first must come the ritual self-mutilation.

“You’re so dramatic,” Sam says, and Jared regrets being a generous person who agreed to accompany his roommate for his first playoff image ruiner. 

“Just wait,” Jared says darkly. When Jared asks the stylist for the stupid bleach job she gives him this look like he’s completely insane. Jared feels her.

“It’s a hockey thing,” he says.

“Okay,” she says, long and drawn out. “Are you sure?”

“Unfortunately,” Jared says.

“Dude,” Sam says.

Sam’s super excited about it, but then, it’s his first playoffs, and he hasn’t seen the final results before. His excitement doesn’t last.

“Is it supposed to burn?” Sam asks. They’ve only been under the stupid head…lamp…thing for like five minutes. Five minutes down, way too many to go.

“Playoffs are pain, Samuel,” Jared says. “Trial by fire and all.”

“I didn’t think it would feel like _actual fire_ ,” Sam complains.

“Remember how they told you as a kid not to touch bleach?” Jared says. “Well, here we are.”

“How much longer is this going to take?” Sam whines.

A long time. A longer time because Sam whines constantly. Like, it’s not the best feeling, but Jared’s blocked pucks, and he’ll take this any day. Well, maybe not. Blocking pucks doesn’t make him look like a complete idiot.

And man does he look like a complete idiot. Sam actually looks not terrible. Like, he’s not pulling it off, exactly, but he’s definitely not one of the worst ones. That would be Jared, as usual.

“You look horrible,” Sam says, sounding completely delighted about it.

“I’m getting a new roommate,” Jared mutters.

“Fine with me,” Sam says. “I don’t want you dragging down my reputation.”

The mouths on rookies these days. Jared’s disgusted. 

*

“Ugh,” Bryce says with great feeling basically the second he walks in the door. Jared doesn’t have to ask to know what the ‘ugh’ is about. The ‘ugh’ is him.

“I know,” Jared says. Bryce saw it last year too, and didn’t bitch about it then, but they have clearly reached the point in their relationship where Bryce will finally admit Jared makes an absolutely hideous blond. Well, it’s not even blond, it’s like — it’s just bad. The things you do for hockey. “I won’t blame you if you need to like, keep your eyes shut during sex.”

Bryce snorts, comes over to kiss Jared’s hideously not-quite-blond head. “Hi,” he says. “Ready for it?”

“Yeah,” Jared says. “In like, a stressed as fuck way.”

“Yeah,” Bryce says, with perfect understanding, and that’s probably the best part of being with a hockey player. His parents kind of get it, and they’re definitely stressed too, but their stressed is different than his stressed, audience versus participant. Bryce has done it. Bryce will be doing it soon. Jared’s sure some things about the NHL are different, and the pressure is even higher, especially in a market like this, but when it comes down to it, he bets the feeling is pretty much the same. Do or feel like you want to die.

“Should be able to make it for game one,” Bryce says. Game two he’s out of town again, and then he has home games during Jared’s trip out of town for three and four. Fingers crossed, Jared’s going to be headed to round two by the time the Flames start prepping for a round one of their own. It looks good, for both of them, but then, you never know, and even thinking it in advance is probably a bad idea.

Stressed as fuck honestly covers it well.

“Stop thinking about it,” Bryce says.

“I can’t,” Jared moans, knocking his head against Bryce’s shoulder.

“Okay, distraction,” Bryce says, then, kind of hesitant, “Um.”

“What?” Jared asks suspiciously. As far as distractions go, something Bryce is reluctant to ask is a pretty good one.

“Is it okay if I wear that pendant I got you?” Bryce asks.

Jared blinks. “Like, the one with my initials?”

“Yeah, I thought—” Bryce says. “If you’re wearing the ring on your chain when you’re out — we could, like, both wear each other, you know?”

Jared stares at him.

“What?” Bryce asks.

“You’re such a dork,” Jared says.

“Never mind,” Bryce says, sounding hurt.

“No, it’s — come here,” Jared says. Words are hard, and obviously Bryce isn’t capable of differentiating between insults and like, the good kind of dork. The kind he is. Which is a giant fucking dork, and Jared loves the hell out of him.

“I’m going to go put it on,” Bryce says, when Jared finally lets him go, and when he comes back from their room it’s resting against his sternum, the little ‘JBM’ so small you wouldn’t be able to tell it’s Jared’s initials unless you were looking. Jared’s looking.

“Looks good,” Jared says, and it’s — it does, on him. Jared’s name looks good on him. Jared’s starting to understand why Bryce reacted to Jared wearing a shirt with Marcus on the back the way he did.

Engaged sex continues to be really fucking great, Jared would like noted for the record. Really fucking great. And Bryce doesn’t even keep his eyes shut to avoid looking at Jared’s hair.

“I think married sex would kill us,” Bryce says breathlessly.

“Right?” Jared says.

“I don’t mind, though,” Bryce says, with a stupid dorky grin on his face, and Jared can’t even mock him for it, because he’s pretty sure his own grin matches it perfectly.


End file.
